“Yes. Tomorrow he will be over this house at midnight. The next night at one o’clock. The night after, at two, and the following one at three. Then he starts all over again. I arranged his trips in that order, so that anyone spying would not be able to count on a set time.”
Mr. Evans nodded his approval. “That is very satisfactory, Bill. You think Parker is to be trusted, of course?”
“I’m sure of it, sir. Hope you don’t think I set his salary at too high a figure?”
“I’ll double it if he proves useful,” Mr. Evans declared. “Now get off my knee, Charlie, while I pay Bill back for what he has spent on my account.”
He dug into a trousers’ pocket, fished out a roll of bills and handed it to Bill. “That’s what I owe you—and keep the balance for expenses. You may need it before long.”
“Thanks, sir.” Bill pocketed the money. “Can you tell us something of what we’re up against, sir?”
Mr. Evans glanced at his watch. “Goodness! It’s time you fellows were in bed. I’ll go into details, Bill, after breakfast.”
“But, Dad, we slept all day!” Charlie expostulated.
“Never mind, son. You won’t be the worse for a few hours more. We’ll all need clear wits in the morning.”
Beckoning the lads to follow, he went to the door. Their feet echoed on the polished tiles of the hall, a vast place which looked like a black cavern above them, the dim shape of a wide staircase beyond. Following Mr. Evans’ lead, they mounted the stairs, his flashlight flickering on the thick carpet and heavy oak banisters. In the corridor above, he stopped and flung open a door.